Yoga with running water trickling in the background. Check.
Thirteen ziplines over a luscious, impenetrable rain forest.
Check.
Horseback riding on muddy jungle trails and white sand
beaches. Check.
But 60 kilometers of ATVing in the high mountains? Yes, during
our Costa Rica vacation several weeks ago, we did that too. It was there, doing
something new and unplanned, that I encountered God again.
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| Our tutorial - none of us knew what to do! |
This whole four wheeling gig is highly out of character for
the Comptons, because my parents have long considered the vehicles a source of
unnecessary danger. But, the folks who provided the horseback riding also offer
ATV tours, and after a week and half of exploration, we had pretty much ventured
on every excursion we had hoped to do. There were still three days to kill
before our departure, though, so Hoffa signed us up for the following day. I
was hesitant. It seemed like a waste of money and time. I just saw four
wheelers as loud, dangerous gas guzzlers. What’s the point of riding on one all
day? I thought hanging out at the house or beach reading The Two Towers would probably be a better use of my diminishing
days of vacation.
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| I don't know about this... |
But, as I often am, I was wrong. ATVing provided many
surprises. Now that we’ve been back a few weeks, we have already begun reminiscing
on this summer’s family vacation, and almost all of us – I included – agree
that the quad tour was especially memorable.
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| How the Comptons feel about four wheelers now |
If you recall from previous posts, we initially struggled to
navigate the twisting, unpaved roads surrounding Nosara. Because we didn’t rent
a car, we had been walking everywhere for the past week, and even the Compton
girls were gaining some sense of direction. My first surprise began as, bend
after bend, we quickly departed from the unpaved Costa Rican roads we had come
to know. Blindly following our jovial German guide, we entered remote villages,
and I began to see glimpses of a more authentic Costa Rica – the tourists’ Pura Vida mask, the false presentation
of luxurious paradise, was stripped to its origin. Everyone still smiles, the
mangos are still sweet, and the jungle still pristine. But here, despite our
swift pace, I noticed the difference. Impoverished farmers struggle to provide
for their large families. Sons escape reality on the soccer field. Mothers seek
solace in the church. Skinny pets scavenge to survive. Life is hard.
Without an ATV, I would’ve missed this. True, these two
weeks were a vacation, but I’m grateful that I have not returned as another
tourist oblivious to the economics which prevail most of the country. I had
seen this kind of life – and far worse circumstances – in Cambodia, but the more
poverty you witness in different places across the globe, the more you realize
your own blessings.
While our indirect encounter with poverty was good, it was
my second unanticipated surprise that makes this excursion so memorable and
precious. High in the Costa Rican mountains, I had an authentic meeting with
the Lord. Ever since traveling to Cambodia, I have struggled in my faith as I never
have before. (For more on that, check the archived blog titled Jesus? Oh,
Jesus). I walked with a childlike faith well into college. Even when I faced challenges
at Roanoke, I held on to the relationship and experiences he and I shared
together from my youth. I knew his names, and I continued to call on him, even
when I didn’t necessarily feel his presence. Jesus - the Beautiful Savior. The
Holy One, Beginning and End, untamed lion and sacrificial lamb. He is a heart healer,
miracle worker, and grace giver.
Though he calls us to have a childlike faith, God has brought
me back to the basics this summer and taught me that that is just what our
faith should be – childlike. Not the
belief in God that children hold when they are six and have grown up in the
church. Most kids believe because they are taught, and they accept the
authority of their teachers. They flourish off of the spiritual milk they are
given, and while they are still children, it suffices.
Adults, however, must
grow up and face the world’s challenges. We’ve got adult minds; we’re skeptical
realists. We face the hardships of life and sometimes we say, “Where are you
God?” What’s worse, a lot of times there is silence. Sometimes even more
hardships are piled on top of the perceived silence. So we conclude that our
Sunday school teachers were wrong. God must not be here after all. When we face
those obstacles, we can’t function off of milk. We need wholesome spiritual food,
consisting of worship, prayer, fellowship, scriptural meditation, and
repentance. Only then can we defend the Gospel, as we’re called to do*. As we
depend wholly on a gracious father, we return to our childlike faith. Our God’s promises do not
fail; he gives good gifts and desires to speak and work through his children.
We are his beloved.
Intermittently this past year, I have swung on a
self-serving, schedule-filled pendulum which has made it hard to wholly accept
those truths. Perhaps in my head. Yes, I chose to believe. I deliberately chose,
despite not really “feeling” God’s presence, to hold on to things which had
proven to be true in the past. Unexpectedly, Dark Nights of the Soul still came
charging, and when they did I felt lost, alone, and confused. I now knew and
understood the doubts others had described to me before. Though I appreciated
the perspective, I felt like I was supposed to be the solid Christian who is attuned
to the Spirit and showing people the Lord’s love. My own doubt both frightened
and frustrated me.
Just as those dark moments crawled into my heart, unforeseen
and uncalled, it was atop a strange ATV in the bumpy mountains of Costa Rica
that I suddenly began to experience God’s good love as I once had.
Most people like four wheelers for their utility – being able
to drive cross country where no other vehicle can go. My favorite part is the
noisy silence it offers, inviting conscious contemplation. It was amidst this
white noise of revving engines that I began to worship the Lord. A quad is too
loud for conversation, so even though I was technically with my family as I had
been for the past two weeks, I did a lot of solitary looking, thinking, and
listening. As we climbed into the mountains, the landscape transformed into
grand canopied mountains. The forest boasted countless plant species and shades
of green.
Our conversation was simple. Finally being able to hear his
voice again, and know that it was him was delight enough.
God, look at this! Unreal!
I love your Creation. I love that I
can be in it and enjoy it. Thank you for this treat.
I love you, Jessica. This is a gift from Me, and I am here
with you. I will not leave you.
Each curving bend brought a new view, which kindled another
prayer of thanksgiving. Prayers on prayers became worship, an intermingling of
song and conversation. I noticed how many of the songs I sang in my head were
about repentance and return.
So I come, straight
into your arms
I’m coming back to the
heart of worship
Lord, I come to you
We will run to you, turning
from our sin we return to you
Even now, here’s my
heart God
Yes I shall arise and
return to my Father
Ever since the Fall in the garden, humans have naturally
sought their own desires. One way or another we have become lost and destitute,
and we yearn for redemption. So we have Jesus now, one who never did turn away.
He is a shepherd who cares for his flock, and he seeks our hearts. After we
have done it our own way and it doesn’t work, we turn back.
On that ATV, my heart, over my mind or will or desire, began
turning back to God’s own. I felt his radiant presence, his delight when I
called him my only, my worthy One, and the Holy Spirit filled me with a divine
joy. You might be thinking, Jessica, you’re
a pretty joyful person all the time. This was not the same. It was unearthly,
contagious joy resulting directly from returning fully into the Lord’s realm.
It came from a denial of the self, of giving him complete praise and telling him
that I am his, and everything I do is for his glory. When that offer is earnest,
he loves it.
So I want you to know this: if you’ve been having faith struggles
of your own, I get you. I am not some holier-than-thou church-going gal that
you can’t relate to. Doubt sucks. I am following God’s command in Joel 2:12 – “Even
now,” declares the LORD, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting and
weeping and mourning.” I am choosing to return to God’s love, and I am trusting
that it is real and enough.
When I straddled the ATV that morning, all I felt was
reserved anxiety. I never expected to encounter poverty or the geography of the
mountains, much less the most holy encounter with the Lord that I’ve had in a
long time. That’s our God for you, though. Many times he is most present in the
unexpected. He is always there when we return to him, and he truly delights
when we worship him. Hallelujah, praise to a good God.
* But in
your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a
defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do
it with gentleness andirespect
-1 Peter 3:15
Love you, Jessica.
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